The Slave Queen (Chapter I)
CHAPTER I ANAKIN LOSES So that's it, he lost? Padmé asked in a disgruntled tone, leaning her left elbow against the railing of the platform as she frowned at Qui-Gonn. Do you have ''any ''idea how reckless it was to trust that boy? You should've trusted my judgement, your highness, but I had a lot of faith in the boy's ability to succeed – I was wrong. The platform began to descend as the pod-race came to an end, the crowd cheering loudly as their hero – Sebulba the Dug – celebrated his victory, pumping his fists in the air. The majority had gambled on the odds that he would win, and although the stakes were high, many gambled highly, pouring whatever manner of wealth they had in the faith that he would do them justice and win. It came as no great surprise to everyone in attendance that he won by quite a humiliating distance, as many of those competing had crashed and perished on the final lap. Padmé was hardly impressed, her final chance of getting to Coruscant vanishing as fast as the sand storm that moved in from the rocky mountain range, casting a great shadow over the racetrack and the relatively small settlement of Mos Eisley. What infuriated her most was that she had practically no choice but to go along with the somewhat over enthusiastic Jedi, and place her trust in a young slave boy who went by the name of Anakin Skywalker. He seemed nice at first, a little annoying for sure, but what ten-year old who lived on a godforsaken rock wasn't? Her sarcastic, callous thoughts were deepened when the platform stopped with a sudden jolt, and the gate opened, allowing them the luxury to leave. However, it was then — as they were just about to walk out of the stadium — that Watto revealed himself, to which he immediately proceeded to heckle the unfortunate Jedi. I warned you about battling the odds, the flying shopkeeper spoke before adding, Sebulba ''always ''wins. Qui-Gonn simply folded his arms and sighed. You were right, my friend. '' Friend? Thought Padmé as she glared at the both of them, her expression showing her sheer disbelief. ''What were you hoping to achieve? All you've succeeding in doing is breaking not only the spirit of a young, innocent boy, but also those you swore to serve as well. "Excuse me? 'Serve'?" croaked the brunette as she brushed a few loose strands behind her ears. Watto grinned at her. "Please, did you really ''think assuming the guise of a poor teenager would fool every creature in Mos Eisley?" Qui-Gonn stepped forth to intervene. "This is my daughter — she doesn't concern you." "So, you're ''not ''Queen Amidala of Naboo?" Watto chuckled to himself, scratching his beard. "N-no, why would you think such a thing?" she stuttered, stepping back a few paces. "Interesting, if that's true — could you explain something to me?" The situation was growing tenser with each passing moment, and Padmé felt a very cold shiver run down the back of her spine. For some reason, she felt extremely vulnerable, exposed like a nerve. The protection bestowed upon her suddenly dissipated and was reduced to nothing. Now she felt more isolated than ever before. She replied hesitantly. "What's that?" "Upon entering the stadium, a sample of your blood was taken. Tatooine has the largest genetic matching database in the outer rim territories, and it was discovered that you're in fact Queen Amidala." Everyone froze as Watto continued. "I think the Trade Federation would be ''very ''interested in hearing about your current whereabouts, don't you?" "That's quite enough," the longhaired Jedi interrupted once more, showing his lightsaber in order to intimidate the greedy gambler. "Be gone, leave us to our business — you have your winnings." "Hmm, I'd watch yourself from now on…your ''highness." As quickly as he had arrived to gloat, Watto was gone, the faint fluttering of his wings the only proof of his presence. There was a curtain of sand rising over the peak of the limestone stands as the sandstorm began to settle in and around the area, coating everything that dared to evade its wrath. Cracks in the stone stretched wider and longer, eventually separating colossal chunks that then proceeded to roll down and flatten many of the pods that were unable to be taken safely inside. Even the flags showing the planets each competitor was from were buried in a blanket of scorching hot, golden sand, not to mention those who foolishly stood by and guarded them with their lives. Padmé and Qui-Gonn managed to run in to a small, abandoned house nearby, not far from a back exit. It was large enough for R2-D2 and the ever benevolent, Anakin Skywalker, to hide inside. They scurried through the entrance and sealed the door behind them. "Anakin, I'm ''very ''grateful for what you've done for us, that was an excellent race, and most importantly, a ''fair ''race — you've made me proud." Padmé shook her head in astonishment. "Don't lie to the poor boy, he knows the truth of what happened, and it's not in any way — shape or form — his fault." Too young to understand her anger, the prepubescent slave gasped. "What do you mean 'his fault'?" "I believe her highness wishes to unload the blame on me," Qui-Gonn smirked, the threat of a chuckle lingering on the corner of his lips. "Do you seriously find this amusing? We're trapped here by ''your ''doing, and it was by ''your ''will did we find ourselves stuck out here in the middle of a space port ruled by the scum of the galaxy," she folded her arms, turning her head to the side as her mouth hung open, and her bottom jaw dropping towards the ground. "Let's look at this realistically, unless that word doesn't exist in your vocabulary?" "Certainly," Qui-Gonn leaned back against the wall, maintaining a passive mood. "…We're doomed, there's no escaping this planet now — not without a means of contacting those who can possibly help us," the brunette explained, keeping a level head as she sat down at the small, low-standing table. "Your highness, there's no other alternative — we must contact Naboo." "And do what, risk signing the treaty and condemning ''my ''people to an eternity of suffering?" Padmé snapped, twisting her head to face him. The Jedi glanced outside the window of the small house as the sandstorm settled, shrouding them all in a strange, yellow darkness. "…I was merely looking at it from a point of desperation, we're out of options, there's only one left, and although it's bleak, there is a possibility that we can devise a plan to fool Nute Gunray." "No! I will not take a course of action that will further destroy my people," she collapsed her head in to her arms. Just then, there was a loud knock on the door. Qui-Gonn went to investigate, his eyes scanning the room as he began stroking his lightsaber. As a Master, he wasn't as skilled in lightsaber combat as say his apprentice, who was agile and young, instead he relied on his wisdom to guide him on the right path. Still, he was wary and answered the door with caution. When he opened the door, he was met with empty air. The sandstorm continued to rage through the spaceport, but the worst of it had passed in a manner of minutes. Still, Qui-Gonn received a dark and terrible feeling. It coursed through his veins like a cancerous disease, warning him that something was wrong. "Who was it?" Padmé asked with a muffled voice, her head still buried in her arms. "We must leave at once," he spoke sternly. The group stood up and made their way out of the door, the last of the storm raging through as a probe droid could be seen watching from the top of a jagged spire of sandstone. It analysed the identities of the organisms below and transferred the results to its master. Qui-Gonn knew, as the droid sped off in to the distance, that someone, or something, had tracked them to the desolate planet. Even on the way back to the ship, the young woman continued to question the Jedi's attitude towards protecting her, however her attention was focused on the annoying ten-year old tracking her every step in the deep, golden sand. "Would you cut that out?" she snapped, turning around. Anakin smirked. "Don't you think it's funny?" "Funny like the Gungan you all seem to split your sides at? Please, the very meaning of that word is wasted here," Padmé grinned sarcastically. Not far from the outskirts of Mos Eisley, a lone starship could be seen in a dark cave, concealed from the blistering heat of the two suns. It was completely black in coloration, with a bright, red stripe running underneath the hull. Inside, the dark powers of the galaxy converged. "You have done well, Lord Maul – the Queen is within our grasp," came an old, crackled voice as the apprentice kneeled before the holographic projector. He added. "What of the Jedi?" "Master, the Jedi are separated, but the most powerful of the two is close by her side. It won't be long before I defeat him and his apprentice, and return her to Naboo so that the treaty can be signed," Darth Maul explained in an angry, yet controlled tone, his rage somewhat evident. Just then — right before Sidious could continue — a second holographic projection appeared. "The assassin…" "My Lord Plagueis," Maul's eyes shot open, revealing the deep yellow surrounding his black souls, like a thousand suns being sucked in to the crushing darkness of the unknown. "I didn't expect…" The Muun interrupted him mid-sentence. "Silence yourself, there is much to be done — the Queen ''must ''return to Naboo, and quickly." Sidious remained quiet, merely electing to watch as his Master took over proceedings. Darth Maul gulped, a rare show of dread, and replied in earnest. "Amidst the crowd of squabbling decoys, my droids have located the ''real ''Queen Amidala, and you have my assurances that she will return to Naboo before the capital falls apart." "Your 'assurances'?" There was a brief moment of silence as Sidious grinned, bearing his pearly teeth stained by yellow and black marks. He could tell when his Master grew annoyed or displeased with something, and revelled in his own apprentice's misery and suffering. Darth Plagueis may've been wise and generally quite reserved in his old, withering age, but he was still the same, cold-hearted, remorseless, power-hungry Sith Lord the galaxy would never come to fear. On the outskirts, where the once glorious oceans of Tatooine ruled supreme, Obi-Wan revealed himself from the ship, escorted by the Queen's most trusted advisor. "Master," he bowed, "I sense all did not go as planned." "No – it did not." Padmé elected to remain silent on this occasion, and glared at her advisor. "Is there any news from Naboo? Or are we receiving the same transmission?" The old man quivered and looked at the two Jedi, a spark of fear flashing across his eyes. "Y-yes, you could say that. We've received a strange message from Senator Palpatine." "Palpatine?" asked Qui-Gonn in a puzzled tone. Obi-Wan added. "He managed to reach us from Coruscant?" "Regardless, we ''must ''discuss our next plan of action inside, away from the reach of the sun your highness," the advisor explained, looking around as the soft wind kicked up dust devils. As they all made their way inside the stranded cruiser, a pair of greedy eyes watched on in silent jubilance from across the sand dunes, focusing on the young Queen.